


Better a False Start than No Start at All

by KrisEleven



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Asexuality, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sexual Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisEleven/pseuds/KrisEleven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek just hadn’t seen it coming, had turned back to see why Stiles was being so quiet, their leftovers from dinner put away in the fridge to have Stiles cup his jaw in those long-fingered hands and kiss him on the mouth. Shoving Stiles back so he stumbled, his back hitting the counter behind him, was an overreaction. Derek hadn’t meant to, but…</p>
<p>He really hadn’t seen it coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better a False Start than No Start at All

**Author's Note:**

> Ignoring s4 here!
> 
> Originally posted [on Tumblr](http://littlewerewolfasses.tumblr.com/post/108556875688/better-a-false-start-than-no-start-at-all).

Stiles was staring at him, wide-eyed, jaw loose with surprise. Shock, really. Derek supposed his face wasn’t much better, but then he hadn’t been expecting Stiles to suddenly be _in his face_. Stiles, in Derek’s face _with Stiles’ face_. He just hadn’t seen it coming - literally or otherwise - had turned back to see why Stiles was being so quiet, their leftovers from dinner put away in the fridge to have Stiles cup his jaw in those long-fingered hands and _kiss him on the mouth_. Shoving Stiles back so he stumbled, his back hitting the counter behind him, was an overreaction. Derek hadn’t _meant_ to, but…

He _really_ hadn’t seen it coming.

So they stood _staring_ at each other from opposite sides of Derek’s little kitchen and Derek didn’t know what to say except, “What?” The ‘t’ sound is sharp, ending the word on an angry note he hadn’t intended, wasn’t even really feeling through the adrenaline-buzz of surprise and a slowly-building ball of dread, but anger had been his fallback since – It was just instinct at this point, wasn’t it?

Stiles gaped at him, mouth moving without sound for a moment. “I – I thought you wanted to –”

“No,” Derek snapped, drawing back. His back was against his counter now, the empty space of the kitchen floor between them hostile ground. “Why would you think–?” But he stopped because, _fuck_ , he’s so _fucking_ stupid.

“Dude,” Stiles gasped out. “Why would I – Jesus, Derek! Why do you _think_?”

Because Derek was an idiot, that was why. Stiles had been over at Derek’s a lot since everything with the nogitsune. Scott and Kira were spending so much time together, now that they were official, and Cora and Isaac were gone, leaving Derek basically alone in Beacon Hills; Derek had thought Stiles was as grateful for some company as he was. And he _had_ been grateful. Grateful that he was the one Stiles called when he wanted to grab food, or check out a new movie, or spend an evening out of his usually-empty house. Stiles had brought his console over, taught Derek how to play shooter games, laughed every time he shot Derek’s character since Derek was terrible at shooter games, agreed to switch to some basketball one after Derek charlie-horsed Stiles’ leg every time he died. Derek hadn’t realized it wasn’t safe, to get comfortable enough with Stiles that they could knock shoulders, or lean against each other when a movie was one, or to let Stiles rest his feet or head on his lap while he was reading. It had been a long time since Derek had trusted anyone and he – he had thought they were _friends_. 

He should have known that it was about sex all along. 

He didn’t know what to say, embarrassment filling his brain in hot waves because he was so stupid, what kind of _idiot_ gets to his mid-twenties and still can’t figure this shit out? No wonder his dating history was made up exclusively of psychopathic murderers. They must have known right away how easy it would be to turn him about, how confused it all made him, and how easy that bewilderment would be to manipulate.

He was so stupid.

“You could have said,” Stiles carried on, his knuckles white as he gripped the lip of the counter. He had turned his head sharply away from Derek, his voice thick and the scent of salt in the air. “You could have just told me that you didn’t like guys, or that you didn’t think of me like that, instead of leading me on. You were all over me, Derek, what the fuck was I supposed to think?”

Derek wanted to tell him that he needed a minute, needed to figure out what the hell was happening, rearrange everything he had been labelling as A while it was actually B. He needed to be alone, to work through the shame that was snaking through his stomach and up his throat, and the anger clouding his mind as memories of Kate and Julia slinked through. He just needed Stiles to give him a second to breathe, because he honestly wasn’t sure the air was getting to his brain through the tightening of his chest. Instead, what he growled was: “Go home.”

Stiles went.

* * *

Derek cleaned the living room furiously, nauseated, thoughts rolling through his mind in an angry loop. Stiles, laughing at him over Thai takeout, Stiles kissing him, Stiles staring at him reeking of embarrassment, Stiles leaving with his breaths hitching as soon as he had the loft door slammed behind him.

_Fuck_. What a mess. 

He heard Kira hesitate outside the door. Her knuckles tapped lightly, an aborted knock, before she opened the door and walked in, like she’d done for weeks, and Derek knew right away that she knew what had happened. She and Stiles weren’t close, so either he told Scott, who told her, or else Stiles had told the _entire pack_ , and what would that mean? Scott wouldn’t choose anyone over Stiles, especially not _Derek_. Was Derek going to be omega from this pack he had only tentatively, so carefully, opened himself up to joining, because he couldn’t _grow the fuck up_ and be a normal person?

“What do you want?” he snapped over his shoulder as he gently stacked Stiles’ games on the coffee table, lining up each of the corners.

“Are you okay?” she asked, hesitating. He could hear her twisting her fingers anxiously. “Stiles is at Scott’s. He’s okay.”

Derek felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease. He had been worrying, and unable to call or text him to be sure, not when Stiles was pissed at him, and Kira’s assurance was welcome. It also meant that Stiles had gone to Scott, not the whole pack, with his anger at Derek which was…. Maybe better. Derek couldn’t be sure.

One of the games was slightly longer than the others; he couldn’t get the pile perfectly even.

He kind of wanted Kira to hug him, which just made him feel so _ashamed_ , because obviously he had been completely inappropriate with Stiles without realizing it. How was he supposed to know? After Kate, he had been suspicious of everyone. He hadn’t known, with her, what she’d wanted, that her touching him was with intent until she had him in the locker room after school. After that… he was supposed to want her? She was beautiful, all of his friends talked about wanting her, it was flattering, right? 

Look what that had led to. 

So, he had assumed that it was what everyone wanted. If he couldn’t tell – and he couldn’t – then it was better safe than sorry, right? Jennifer had snuck under his barriers – purposefully, as it turned out – but by then he had spent years keeping everyone out, hadn’t allowed anyone to touch him for so long and he was hurt and alone and if that was what normal people did, he could want that too, right? 

Of course, she was only using him to get to his pack. 

Again. 

If he was wrong with Stiles, then he was wrong with Kira, who had probably just been too nice to say how uncomfortable he had been making her. He’ll have to stop, he guesses, which makes him want to _cry_ or something, _shit_. He should never have let people in again. Hadn’t Kate taught him anything? Hadn’t Jennifer? 

“Derek?” Kira touched his back tentatively and he jerked forward. He tried to mask the movement into his turn towards her, but her eyes were wide and concerned; she hadn’t bought it. “Sorry! Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice was timid as she smiled at him uneasily. 

“What do you want?” he repeated, not meeting her gaze. 

“Stiles said you two got into a fight? He wanted to talk to Scott, so I thought I’d come over and see if you were okay.” She looked up at him. “You’re not okay. What happened?”

“He kissed me.”

“Oh!” Kira stared at him. Her face scrunched up. “Was it… bad?”

“I don’t know!” Derek said, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. “I pushed him away before it really… happened.”

“You pushed him?” Her eyes were wide again.

“I wasn’t expecting it! I didn’t know he felt like that!”

Her eyebrows twitched down. “Seriously?” she asked, incredulously. She wasn’t surprised. No one normal would have reacted like he had. Something was obviously wrong with him and now he’d hurt _Stiles_. 

His panic must have been obvious, because Kira had sympathy panics, and she started to freak out. “You don’t have to want to kiss him! It’s okay if you don’t like him!” she exclaimed.

“I do like him,” Derek shoved his hands in his hair and dragged his hands back down his face, growling into his palms. “I just didn’t – I don’t want to – he kissed me and – I didn’t know that’s what he thought! I didn’t know it was about sex, I never know –” He trailed off, shaking his head angrily, nearly growling with frustration.

"You didn't know that Stiles _like_ liked you."

His _life_ , that Derek was having this conversation with a teenaged girl, Jesus Christ. "I never know! I've never known! People always want _that_ but I've never felt - I never know how -" 

_There’s something wrong with me_ , he couldn’t say out loud.

“Woah,” Kira said. “Are you ace?” Derek narrowed his eyes at her. “Asexual,” she explained. “Like, you don’t feel attracted to anyone? Or want to have sex?”

Derek was really uncomfortable with her talking about sex. “How do you know this?” he asked.

“My friend in New York was bi, and shy.” She made a face at the unintentional rhyme, but continued on. Stiles would have stopped the entire conversation until Derek faked a laugh at it. Derek missed Stiles already. “So I joined our diversity club with her! There were some ace girls who told me about what it was like.” She searched his face. “You didn’t know?”

“I just –” He shook his head. “There was just something wrong with me.”

“Hey! No!” Kira protested. Derek blinked at her; the bought of fierceness from someone as normally sweet as her always set him back a step. “There’s nothing wrong with you; don’t say that.” She sat down on the couch and tapped the cushion until he gave in and sank down beside her. He moved to lean on her and stopped himself, hesitating. She leaned her head on his shoulder stubbornly. “There’s nothing at all wrong with you, Derek.” 

“Okay,” he said quietly. He would have to think about that, but he leaned his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes.

* * *

Despite what Stiles would have the rest of the pack believe, Derek knew how to Google. He drove over to the public library and spent two hours jumping from site to site, reading descriptions and message boards and other peoples’ stories until the connection times out and he had to go home. 

Derek had asked Kira not to tell anyone. He was glad he had, because some of the stuff he read didn’t sound like him, and some of it was really confusing, and about forty-five minutes into his second internet search he’d had to shut the system down and he’d left all his stuff sitting beside the computer and had just walked, walked past the lady at the front and out into the street and into the preserve and just away. He didn’t want to deal with it. Derek thought he had more than enough to deal with.

But the Preserve calmed him, and nothing had been stolen when he returned to the library. He counted it as a victory, of sorts.

Kira texted him cheery messages in the evenings. She was listening to the new Taylor Swift album, judging by the quotes she was passing off as advice.

He didn’t know how to make fun of her for it without revealing he knew the lyrics himself, and was thinking that through when he realized Stiles was outside his door. It was late. The Sheriff didn’t like Stiles out past midnight, now that he knew about all the things going bump in the night, so he must be on the late shift because it was _way_ past midnight. Derek hesitated, listening to Stiles hesitate, and felt a wave of relief when it seemed like he was going to lose his nerve. It turned to disappointment when Stiles actually took a step back because Derek missed him. No matter how he might be dreading what was sure to be an awkward conversation, Derek would have it if it meant he had a chance to get Stiles back.

No matter how different it might be between them, after... after they talked.

Derek opened the door just as Stiles took the first step down, making him flail and sway over the stairs alarmingly before he righted himself. Derek glared at him, exasperated. “How embarrassing would it be to die falling down the stairs, after all the shit you’ve survived?” he asked. It was a disturbingly regular type of question.

“Scott would totally lie in my eulogy,” Stiles responded. He walked toward Derek as he spoke, and Derek moved back to allow him into the loft. He shut the door behind them. “It was in our BFF Code of 2006.”

“That was way before you knew about any of this,” Derek argued, waving his arm in a gesture that tried to capture the fuckery that was Beacon Hills.

“Well, an undignified death was always a danger,” Stiles responded. “And I think at the time we were thinking superpowers and an arch-nemesis, to be honest.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile at that, tucking his chin into his shoulder to hide it before looking back up at Stiles. Stiles’ returning smile faded after a moment and he began to fidget, pulling on the strings of his hoodie. Derek braced himself. Stiles took a deep breath, obviously doing the same. “Derek, I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely. Derek froze. He had expected Stiles to pretend it hadn’t happened, or to still be mad, or even be willing to brush it off with a joke but he hadn’t expected him to feel like he had something to be sorry for. “I never wanted to be that guy again. I just – I was so sure that you weren’t another Lydia, where I was putting all these feelings on you that were just unwelcome and repulsive and I’ll stay away if you’re weirded out now, I get it if you are. I just hope you’re not, because, dude, I miss you. A lot. And I’m just really sorry –”

Derek felt like shit. That was not how he wanted Stiles to feel. He loved Stiles, just not… probably not… he wasn’t sure what it was like, yet, but he knew he didn’t want this, with Stiles wide-eyed and pleading and smelling like shame. “It’s not like that,” he interrupted. “It might be like that, but I’m not sure yet.” Stiles made a face, confused. Derek ran a hand over his head. “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you. I might not be attracted to anyone. Kira said." He could see that Stiles wasn't following and he nearly threw up his hands and walked out, but Stiles still felt like hurt and Derek took a deep breath and said, "I think I’m asexual.”

“Asexual,” Stiles repeated.

Derek shrugged, looking away, like maybe it didn’t matter to him one way or another.

Stiles’ eyes flicked from side to side. He was always best at human puzzles, at remembering details of behaviour and figuring out motivations. It had bothered Derek, back when everything had felt out of his control and he hadn’t known what the fuck he was doing most of the time. He was mostly grateful for it, now, since it meant Derek didn’t have to try to explain. He was getting better at saying what he meant, but the tough things, when it came to Derek talking about Derek, that was when Stiles just knowing filled him with relief.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, nodding. “That’s… wow, yeah, okay, that makes sense. Thanks for telling me. But dude… still, totally my bad. I shouldn’t have just laid one on you like that. It was shitty.”

“It’s fine.”

Stiles smiled at him, then shook his head. “Huh,” he said. “I really wasn’t expecting this. How are you feeling about it?” Derek tipped his head back and groaned. Stiles laughed. “Sorry! Just… yeah. Sexual identity crisis bros?” He extended a fist, eyebrows wiggling dementedly.

Derek bared his teeth at him before bumping Stiles’ fist with his own. “That’s the one and only time,” he warned him as Stiles grinned wildly, waving the bumped hand at Derek in delight. “I’ve still got leftover Thai,” he said, walking away. 

Stiles was settled on the couch when Derek came back with plates, already sprawled in his usual spot, a movie paused on the previews. He accepted his food with grabby hands as Derek sat beside him, careful to keep a cushion of space.

“So,” Stiles dragged the word out, twisting his fork in his noodles. “Like, never?”

He smelled like disappointment, a little bit, like maybe he had been hoping he and Derek would be more than just a kiss. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never tried to figure any of this out before. It’s not like sex grosses me out; I’m not a child –”

“You can be grossed out by whatever you damn well want. I will fight for your right to be grossed out, okay?” Derek laughs… again. He hadn’t expected any of this to actually be funny, after Stiles had yelled at him and walked out, or when Kira sat with him in silence in his apartment while rethinking his life, or when he was reading about it on the internet and trying to fit himself into boxes. It was funny, now, with Stiles acting just like he’d always acted, not seeing anyone different. “Seriously, though. It’s not a phase, dude. You don’t have to grow out of it. It’s just a thing, just part of who you are. It’s all good.”

Derek pushed his food on his plate. “Well, it doesn’t gross me out,” he said. “I just… I need to figure out what it does make me feel. And what I want to do about it.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed, slurping up noodles.

“Okay?” Derek questioned, making a disgusted face as sauce flicked onto his shirt.

“Dude. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not anything else happens. Seriously. And I’ll help you figure everything out.” He shoved his last piece of broccoli into his mouth and wiggled the fingers on his other hand. “Google-guru,” he chewed out through a full mouth.

“I’ve changed my mind, let’s not be friends.”

“Too late!” Stiles sing-songed, tossing his empty plate onto the coffee table as emphasis, sending everything else flying. “I’ll get that,” he promised.

Derek knew very well who would be cleaning it up. He pressed play and settled in to watch the previews. 

As the opening credits of the movie started, Stiles spoke. “Hugging and stuff, though,” he said quietly. “That was okay, right?”

Derek reached out and slung his arm over Stiles’ shoulder, pulling him in. He winced as an elbow dug into his ribs. Stiles nearly head-butted him in the face before he settled into Derek’s side, but then it was, well, yeah, it was okay. He tucked his chin over Stiles’ head and tightened his arm around him, breathing easy again. Okay. 

They could start there.


End file.
